CHAPTER TWO
a beautiful, wild country
　

April 1968　
Inverness, Scotland　
　

　THE WAKE CAME TO AN END AN HOUR AFTER THE RANDALL FAMILY HAD ARRIVED. Most of the guests had already left, though few still lingered. The Randalls were standing on the sidelines, watching as everyone offered the Reverend's adoptive son their condolences one last time before leaving. Roger Wakefield thanked everyone for coming, and as the last of the guests walked out the door, he was left standing with the three Randalls. As they approached him, it was Claire that spoke in a gentle voice.

　"Well, we should be going."

　Roger's expression changed upon hearing those words and they could tell he was not yet ready to say good-bye to them. Most importantly, to his sister, Brian noticed, for his eyes lingered on her once more.

　"Not all the way back to London?"

　"Oh, no, we'll drive as far as we can and then stop at a pub for the night," Claire reassured. 

　"There's plenty of room here if you'd like to stay," Roger offered without hesitation.

　Claire shook her head, and even though she turned the offer down, a part of her wanted to stay a little while, for she had longed to one day return and now she had. "Oh, we couldn't possibly impose."

　Roger scoffed. "You wouldn't be. In fact, I'd welcome the company. It's a big house."

　"Sounds better than jolting down the wrong side of the road in the dark," Brianna piped up, glancing at their mother with a shrug, as if to say, it couldn't hurt to stick around for a little while.

　"Is that an insult to my driving?" Brian asked with an offended expression. "Because I'm a great driver. Especially at night. Better than the both of you, in fact."

　Brianna gave her brother a look. "Tell that to the scratch on daddy's car."

　He gaped at her. "I was fifteen. Plus, it was my first lesson with dad and it happened to be raining that day so the windows were all foggy. Give me a break, Bree."

　"Okay you two," Claire cut in, meanwhile Roger just watched the twins interact with an amused expression plastered across his face as he fought back some laughter.

　"As I was saying," Brianna continued, throwing her brother an annoyed look for having interrupted her before. "We should take Roger up on his offer, momma. It'll give me and Brian a chance to take in the sights." She looked at Roger, a smile tugging at her lips as the two stared at each other. "I hear it's a beautiful, wild country."

　"Oh, please," Brian muttered under his breath with a slight roll of his eyes. It seemed only his sister had heard him, though, for she quickly nudged him in the side while keeping her eyes and smile on Roger. He coughed as the wind was knocked out of him from the contact of her elbow with his ribcage.

　Claire remained silent, and once she had given it some thought, she glanced between her daughter and Roger before nodding her head. "Alright," she said. "Uh, just so long as we're no bother."

　Roger shook his head. He didn't mind, not at all. In fact, if the Randalls hadn't stuck around until the end of his father's wake, he was sure he would have extended an invitation to Fiona to stay for supper so he wouldn't have to be alone with his grief. "Not at all," he reassured. "I'll fetch your bags from the car. The guest room is just⎯⎯"

　"At the top of the stairs," Claire cut him off, pointing toward the staircase. "I remember."

　As his mother and sister headed for the stairs, Brian turned to follow Roger out the front door, "I'll help you carry them."

　"Oh, no, that's really not necessary," Roger insisted as he opened up the front door. "You're guests here, and guests shouldn't have to carry their own luggage."

　"I don't mind," Brian shrugged. "Besides, you were kind enough to offer us a place to stay. The least I can do is help you carry our luggage up to our room."

　Roger nodded, accepting the help with a silent smile, and the two walked out the door. As they headed toward the car parked some ways away from the house, he asked casually, "So, what is it that you do in Boston?"

　"I don't exactly have a stable job yet, but, uh, hopefully I will when I finish school," Brian replied, hands in his pockets as they walked. "For now, I work at a restaurant, just to earn some extra money between classes. That's how I met my girlfriend, actually."

　"And I suppose this girlfriend is the person your sister was referring to?"

　"Yeah," Brian nodded, a lovesick expression on his face as he thought of the girl that stole his heart. "Katherine loves it when I go on and on about the stars. She can listen to me for hours."

　"How long have you been with her?"

　"It's been a little over a year now," Brian answered with a smile. "She came in for some dinner with some friends one night and I just couldn't help myself. I had to get to know her, y'know?"

　"I'm afraid I don't," Roger laughed sheepishly.

　Brian's head snapped over to look at him, a shocked expression twisting his features. "Oh, come on, there's not even one girl you can't get out of your head?"

　Roger shook his head. "I've met some lovely girls, don't get me wrong, but nothing was ever serious between us. We just didn't have that . . . that . . ."

　"Spark?" Brian finished for him.

　He nodded. "Exactly."

　"Well, when the time is right, I'm sure you will meet the right person," Brian reassured, patting his shoulder in a friendly manner.

　When they reached the car, Brian popped open the trunk and they got to work taking all the luggage out. Brian managed to carry both his own and his sister's luggage while Roger carried all of Claire's. It was Roger who shut the trunk when they were done, and then the pair made their way back up to the house in comfortable silence. As they reached the porch, Brian paused, setting the luggage down and opening up the door for them, and Roger kicked it shut with the heel of his shoe upon entering.

　"I'm afraid there is only one bed in the guest bedroom," Roger began as they started walking up the stairs. "If you want, you can sleep on the sofa in the study. It isn't much, but I imagine it'll be much more comfortable than the floor."

　"The sofa will be fine," Brian replied. "Thank you, Roger."

　"Are you sure?" Roger asked. "I can work on getting another room ready, if you'd rather have a bed to sleep on."

　"Postive," Brian reassured as they reached the top of the stairs. They paused there, and Roger looked at him as he elaborated further. "When I was a kid, I used to sneak out of my room in the middle of the night to use the telescope my father kept by the window in the living room. My mother would find me asleep on the sofa most nights, and instead of waking my father to have me carried back to my room, she'd just throw a blanket over me and leave me there. It was surprisingly comfortable."

　Roger nodded, and they continued walking. By the time they reached the guest bedroom, Claire was already sitting at the vanity and removing some of her jewelry while Brianna was admiring the paintings hung along the bedroom walls. They both turned to look at them as they entered the room.

　A grateful smile pulled at Claire's lips. "Thank you, Roger."

　"It's no problem at all," Roger smiled back. He stood there awkwardly for a moment, eyes lingering on Brianna as he watched her claim her luggage from her brother. He then cleared his throat and took a step back. "Well, I'll let you get settled in then. If you need anything, I'll be downstairs. I have a few things to go over before supper."

　"Of course," Claire nodded. "Please, don't let us keep you from anything important, Roger. I'm sure you have much to do after today."

　
━━━━━━
　

　ONCE THE RANDALL FAMILY SETTLED IN, IT WASN'T MUCH LATER WHEN ROGER WAKEFIELD had finally finished what he needed to do and decided to check up on them to make sure that they were comfortable in their lodgings. He had then offered to take them out for supper, and although Claire said that it wasn't necessary and he should rest after today, Roger insisted that since Brian and Brianna were unfamiliar with Scotland that they should at least taste its exquisite cuisines and famous whiskey. So, after grabbing their jackets, they set out to a restaurant in town that the Reverend had taken Roger to on countless occasions during his youth.

　The dinner was nice, as was the conversation that had gone with it. Brian had always been a picky eater growing up meanwhile his twin sister could always eat anything that their parents put in front of her. But he surprisingly found himself enjoying the food and whiskey that night, just as much as he enjoyed their conversation with Roger, who was more than eager to arrange some tours around the country with the twins.

　By the end of the night, they had gone back to the Wakefield estate and everyone readied themselves for bed. And although Brian had reassured Roger that the couch in Reverend Wakefield's study wouldn't bother him, he found himself wide awake that night, unable to fall asleep. It wasn't that the furniture in the study was uncomfortable, but something, for some reason, was keeping him up and he wasn't sure why. He was usually the type of person that fell asleep as soon as their head hit the pillow. But tonight wasn't the case.

　Almost an hour after settling down in the study, Brian heard a noise coming from the hallway. It sounded like someone was walking down the stairs. He furrowed his brows, wondering who it could be, and then his mother peaked her head inside the room. She frowned when she saw that he was still awake and she entered the room immediately, arms crossed over her chest.

　"Hey," Claire greeted softly. "What are you still doing up?"

　"I couldn't sleep," Brian replied, sitting up on the couch.

　Claire was concerned. "Is something bothering you?"

　"I'm not really sure what's keeping me up," Brian told her honestly, before his expression turned curious. "What about you? Is it hard for you to be here again after dad?"

　"Yes, it is," Claire said, her expression of longing and fondness. "My memories haven't been able to stop haunting me since we got here. I keep thinking about all the time that I had spent here with your father." A sad smile pulled at the corners of her mouth, and Brian gave her a sympathetic look. "I was going to have a drink so that I wouldn't disturb your sister. Would you care to join me?"

　"Sure," Brian nodded.

　They both left the study, going into the lounge area where they sat down near the fireplace with glasses of whiskey that Brian had poured for them. It wasn't much later when they heard another set of footsteps, and Roger Wakefield entered the room.

　"We couldn't sleep," Claire told him as she sipped her whiskey, "so we helped ourselves to a dram. I hope you don't mind."

　"Oh, no bother," Roger said in a reassuring voice as he crossed the room and joined them, sitting down in the chair across from them. "I'll have one with you both." He picked up the bottle of whiskey, refilled both their glasses, before pouring himself one. They simultaneously raised their glasses before taking a sip. "Ah. That's better," he mused, leaning back in his chair.

　Brian shared a look with his mother before they both watched as Roger glanced around the room. He easily recognized the look on Roger's face, as it was one of grief and longing that he had seen on his mother and sister's faces on more than occasion.

　"You know, I pestered him for years to throw things away and clean up the clutter," Roger told them. "Now I can't bear to part with any of it."

　Brian felt a pang of loss in his chest, and he raised his glass to his lips, taking another sip. He can still remember when they had to go to his father's office at the school and clean it out after the funeral. It had taken them hours. And it had taken them even longer to decide what to do with it all because not even Brian could part with a single thing that had belonged to his father.

　"There's a lot of history here," Claire said, referring to the stacks of books scattered around the room. From just the spines alone, Brian could tell that the Reverend's book collection went back centuries.

　"Not just the family's, either, but Scotland's as well," Roger said. "The college here in Inverness have asked me to donate his library to their archives. I'm not sure I'll donate everything. He was quite fond of several rare editions of Prince Charles Stuart and the Battle of Culloden."

　Brian noticed the way that his mother's entire body tensed at the mention of the Battle of Culloden. He wasn't sure why those three words had caused such a reaction, as it was just a battle in a history book. But for some reason, it made his mother take a long sip of her whiskey before she looked at Roger and forced a smile on her face.

　"Culloden," she said, and Roger nodded.

　"Final battle of the '45," Roger explained, completely unaware of her reaction as he stared at his glass of whiskey. "My ancestors fought and died there, actually."

　Claire was surprised. "Really?"

　"Yes, my true name's Roger MacKenzie," he said. "My parents were Jerry and Marjorie MacKenzie. The Reverend adopted me after they were killed in World War II."

　"MacKenzie," Claire smiled, and her son noted how fondly she had spoken the name. "I used to know quite a few MacKenzies . . . once upon a time."

　"It's a common name here."

　After processing what his mother had said, Brian lowered his drink and turned to look at her with slightly widened eyes. And it was then that he recalled the conversation he had with her earlier. He quickly realized that his mother had either lied about not making anymore friends aside from Mrs. Graham and Reverend Wakefield, or she just forgot to mention them. Something about the way his mother glanced at him made Brian believe it was the first one. She didn't want him, or Brianna for that matter, to know about her old acquaintances named MacKenzie. But why? Who were they to her? Before he could say anything, Roger spoke up.

　"May I ask you both something personal?" 

　The Randalls exchanged a brief look before they simultaneously turned to face Roger again, giving him a nod. "Of course," Brian said as his mother gave the man a reassuring smile, silently telling Roger that she didn't mind being asked personal questions.

　"How did you do it?" Roger asked. His eyes glistened with tears and his voice was slightly strained, something which didn't go unnoticed by the Randalls, who stared sympathetically. "Finally say good-bye . . . to that one person you loved most in all the world?"

　The question had Brian at loss for words. Because the truth was, even after all the time that has passed, he had never really gotten over his father's death. Although Brianna had the better relationship with their father growing up, there were still fond memories that he cherished with the man. His fondest memories came the day that his father returned home from work with early birthday presents for him and his sister. They had gotten Brianna an art easel so she could expand her talents, and then presented him with his very first telescope. After that day, the two of them would stay up way past his bedtime while his mother was working late shifts at the hospital, learning all there was to know about the stars. They would sit in the darkness of the living room for hours, just staring up at the sky through the telescope. Those were the days Brian missed most of all. Because while Brianna and their father had their history books, he would always share the stars with his father.

　"Truth is, I've never been very good at saying good-bye," Claire responded, "but that's the hell of it, isn't it? Whether you want to say good-bye or not, they're gone, and . . . you have to go on living without them." Roger nodded and looked away, tears in his eyes. "Because that's what they would want."

　Roger offered up a small smile, trying hard to keep himself together. He had been hoping that the pain of losing his father would get easier. That it wouldn't hurt so much to say good-bye. But now he knew it wouldn't. It was going to take time. A lot of time.

　Claire drank the rest of her whiskey before setting the glass on the table. "Thank you for the whiskey. Good night, Roger." She got to her feet and then turned to face her son, leaning down and giving him a kiss on the top of his head. "Good night, Brian. Try to get some rest, the both of you."

　"Good night," Brian echoed.

　Once Claire had disappeared upstairs, it was just the two of them, though neither spoke for quite a while, the loss of their fathers filling that silence with understanding and comfort because they knew what the other was going through. But after a while, Roger began sharing stories about the Reverend, and Brian did the same with his father, too. And that was all they needed. A friend who understood what they were going through.

a/n: i can't BELIEVE how long it took me to finish this chapter and post it 😭 but don't worry, i've even prewriting like CRAZY so hopefully updates will be more frequent from now on! but anyway, this chapter was a lot of fun to write omg! brian and brianna's constant teasing is just so adorable, and i really loved how this chapter sets up the relationship that brian has with roger! their friendship has been one of my favourite things to write for this book, and i'm so exited to share their dynamic with you! also, brian being totally sus of his mom 👀

also, i have some very EXCITING news! originally, this book was just going to be a standalone story set within its own little universe. however, after convincing one of my watty besties ( pseudonym-lux ) to finally watch the show and buy the first book, both me and liz have decided to turn deep heart's core into a collab! her characters will frequently appear throughout this book, and both brian and moira will be heavily featured in her two outlander fics as well! we're both VERY excited and cannot wait to share all of our fun ideas with you!